Rain
by Windborn
Summary: Oneshot ficlet. During a thunderstorm at Konan's imperial palace, Chichiri reflects on the past. Read and Review, please. Thanks much!


_Greetings all! Here's an angsty little ficlet for you. Poor Chichiri. :huggles:_

_-Windborn_

Disclaimer: I don't own Fushigi Yûgi. Sorry, if you wanted to sue me – I'm a poor college student. All you could get outta me is pocket lint.

**Rain**

How long could one rainstorm last? For six days the sun had not shown itself; only a slight brightening of the sky had given any indication of time's passage. The clouds kept it as dark at midday as at dawn. For six days the thick, near-black clouds had wept onto the earth, turning their usually life-giving waters into a torrent of death for anything – and anyone – caught in the lowlands.

And the rain showed no signs of abating.

The reports had started coming in three days ago: fields knee-deep with mud; flocks stranded, cut off from safety by usually tame streams turned rivers; violent creeks where no water had run before. Then, this morning, two riverside towns were flooded out and destroyed by the rapidly rising waters.

Hotohori-sama was distraught, and understandably so. Enemies could be fought or defended against. In famine, Konan could trade with the neighboring kingdoms for food. But how did an emperor shield his people from hell's own weather? Not that he didn't try! Quite a few of Eiyo's inns had been turned into shelters for refugees from the floods, and all those who had lost their homes or livelihoods were given some kind of reimbursement from His Highness's own coffers.

_Hotohori-sama is a jewel among emperors_, Chichiri reflected, and winced as a bolt of lightning tore across the sky. He carefully poured himself a cup of tea, his hands trembling slightly under the small weight of the teapot as he braced himself, waiting. Despite his attention, he nearly dropped it at the sudden crackle and roar of accompanying thunder that assaulted his ears.

With far more care than was probably necessary, he set the teapot back on its gilded tray. He leaned heavily on the malabar table, trying to steady his breathing, letting the wood's rich fragrance mingle with the herbal scent of the tea. His fingers brushed the elegant scrollwork and ornate carvings ringing the table edge.

Chichiri pulled a hand back and stared at the intricate designs, suddenly strange in this room he'd stayed in since his arrival here in Eiyo. Almost of its own will, the same hand reached up to remove his ever-present mask. He gently laid it beside the tea-tray and looked around the room. Not even three years on Mt. Taikyoku had prepared him for the affluence of Konan's Imperial Palace. However, Taiitsukun's furnishings and ornaments, though sparse, were probably far more valuable even than those here.

_How far have I come from the village brat who only learned to read at his father's occasionally heavy-handed insistence? Who only managed to save enough money for one frivolity in his life…_

But that brought his mind back to the rain, the flooding. Back to—

Tea. There were calmatives in the tea. Hooking two fingers around the handle he lifted the china cup. Maybe if he drank enough of the stuff he could sleep through the rest of the storm?

_CRASH!_

Chichiri nearly leapt right out of his skin at the close proximity of the thunderbolt. The cup of tea fell from suddenly numb fingers to shatter inaudibly amidst the deafening rumble. Trembling, he stared at the slivers of tea-bathed porcelain on the marble floor.

Ironic. The other Seishi thought he was imperturbable. How could a simple thunderstorm reduce him to such a skittish state, even six years later?

Though maybe "simple" wasn't entirely accurate at this point…

A knock on the door roused him slightly from his anxiety, and he quickly replaced his smiling mask.

"Chichiri? Are you here?"

"H-hai, no da." Silently cursing, he willed his voice not to shake and tried to appear calm and cheerful. "Come in, Nuriko, no da."

The door opened a fraction and Nuriko poked his head inside. "You should see this Chichiri – the lightning just completely demolished that old tree in the courtyard. It looks like it exploded…" With a nervous laugh, he edged into the room.

"You don't like storms, no da?"

"Not really. Gosh it's dark in here!"

Chichiri realized he had only lit the one small lamp on the table when he'd returned after breakfast. "Anou…"

Tama-neko darted inside as Nuriko pushed the door closed, and violently shook himself, causing a mini-rainstorm from the floor up. "Mrroow!" he complained.

Grinning, Nuriko bent down and rubbed his ears. "You don't like this weather either, do you boy?"

Tama purred and trotted over to Chichiri, twining twice around his ankles before nosing past the broken china to lap at the tea. Belatedly realizing that pottery-shards and sedatives would probably not be good for the kitten, Chichiri quickly snatched Tama up off the floor.

"What happened?" Nuriko asked, eyeing the mess between the monk's feet.

"Dropped a cup of tea, no da… The storm—" he gestured vaguely with his free hand, cradling Tama in the other. "The thunder startled me, na no da." Something must have shown on his face, despite the mask. Nuriko frowned, regarding Chichiri intently.

"You don't sound too happy with the weather, yourself."

A bitter laugh slipped past his lips before he could stop it, and he winced. "Who is?"

"That's not exactly what I meant." With a sigh, Nuriko came over to the table, poured another cup of tea, and gently propelled Chichiri toward a low, plush chair. Once he was seated, Nuriko handed him the tea. "I'm afraid it's cold, now."

"It's supposed to be, no da." He tentatively sipped it, half expecting another crash of thunder. Tama tried to writhe out of his grasp and get his nose in the teacup.

Chuckling, Nuriko scooped up the kitten. "No, that's his. Should I pour a little for this rascal, to keep him occupied?" he asked, going back to the table.

"No. I'm not sure how it would affect him, no da." He took another sip in the silence that followed, and frowned. Nuriko's lack of a reply made the atmosphere of the room suddenly tense. Looking up, Chichiri realized his fellow Seishi was scowling formidably at him. "Da?"

"What did you put in the tea?"

Being 'mothered' by Nuriko was odd enough that Chichiri surprised himself by responding like a sulky child. Given no alternative but to answer, he muttered his reply so quickly and so low that Nuriko would be unable to understand it.

Nuriko planted his hands on his hips as his glare intensified. "Chichiri…"

He rubbed his neck uncomfortably; his voice was low and normal when he spoke. "It has…kava kava, lotus, and…and poppy."

"Sweet Suzaku! Poppy… Why, for heaven's sake?"

Chichiri didn't answer, but deliberately sipped his tea. Nuriko stared at him for a few quiet moments, then fetched a towel from one of the storage cupboards and began to clean up the broken pottery, with a stern admonition to Tama to stay out of the way. The kitten wandered off, sulking.

Somewhat mollified, Chichiri sighed. "Poppy – and the rest – are sedatives. Dangerous, yes. But I do know what I'm doing."

Nuriko looked up, concern etched into his feminine features. "Sedatives? What for?" After another long silence, he turned back to his cleaning and tried again. "Or maybe I should be asking why this storm bothers you so badly?"

Chichiri's hand tightened around his teacup, knuckles whitening. He didn't want to think about it – hence the herbs. He certainly didn't want to talk about it. Not now, when his nerves were already shot. Mentioning it to Miaka on a sun-drenched afternoon when she was so clearly distressed was one thing. Revisiting it in conditions like this, and for no reason, was another.

He was immensely surprised, therefore, when Nuriko put down the tea-sodden towel and came over to kneel in front of his chair. Nuriko gently put a hand on Chichiri's knee, as though he thought the monk might try to escape somehow.

"Chichiri-san… You spend so much time helping all of us with our problems; we forget you're human, too. It's not healthy to keep everything locked inside. If you need to talk…I'm here. I'll listen."

_He has no idea what he's asking. We all carry the burdens of our pasts. It's easy enough for him – the pain he hides isn't something he caused… _Clenching his jaw, Chichiri stared into his tea. _What am I supposed to say? "Well, you see, during a storm like this I murdered by best friend?" _He shook his head. He had to say something – Nuriko was persistent. As long as he thought he could help in any way, he'd never leave.

The bitterness behind that thought surprised him. The younger Seishi was only trying to give him a vent for his sorrow. Chichiri had no right to be angry with him for it.

Still, he had to tell Nuriko _something_…and it had to be the truth. Just not necessarily the entire truth. He hadn't even given Miaka that.

"There was…a storm, like this…six years ago. Lasted for days, well over a week, with flooding much worse than we've had lately." Chichiri paused, sipped his tea. "One day – the eighth or ninth day of the rains, I guess it was – a dam burst upriver of my village."

He felt Nuriko's fingers tighten briefly on his knee, and Tama left off nosing around the corners after mice to come sit on his lap.

"The village was…completely destroyed. No one survived. In one instant, everyone I knew was gone. Friends…family…my—" He broke off. That would be too much.

Nuriko's violet eyes were wide, brimming with sympathy. "Oh, Chichiri, I'm so sorry…"

Tama purred and rubbed his head against Chichiri's chest, bringing a slight smile back to the monk's masked face.

"I…wasn't there. It was several days before…before I found out what had happened."

_Several days, passed out on a cliff just beyond the water's reach, in shock from the horror of what I'd done, grief at the loss of a dear friend, and the physical pain of losing half my face..._

"You're lucky. If you'd been there, you'd probably have died too."

He raised his head and stared at Nuriko. "I—what?"

"Hadn't you thought of that?" The younger Seishi smiled. "Baka, Chichiri. You were lucky. But knowing you, I bet you've been berating yourself all these years, feeling guilty for surviving. Am I right?"

Chichiri hesitantly nodded.

"Well, it's a good thing you weren't there. Where would we all be without you? How could we summon Suzaku?" His smile became a grin as he pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the table again. "For that matter, a lot of us wouldn't still be alive if you hadn't been looking out for us." Picking up the teapot, he turned back to Chichiri. "We need you," he added, softly. "Here, give me that."

Numbly, Chichiri held out his teacup. Nuriko refilled it and gave it back. "Thank you, no da."

"Get some rest. Things will look better in the morning." Nuriko set the teapot on the floor beside the chair, gently patted the monk's knee, and headed toward the door.

It took Chichiri a moment to find his voice again. "Nuriko."

The violet-haired Seishi turned, half out the door, framed by a sudden flash of lightning.

"Thank you."

Nuriko smiled, for once saying nothing, and softly closed the door behind him.

Absently rubbing Tama's ears, Chichiri finished his second cup of tea, and then a third, until the pot was empty. Then, shooing Tama from his lap, he kicked off his shoes and gingerly stood. He felt stiff and sore, and the wet weather made the skin around his scar tight and itchy. He slipped off his mask and traced a finger down the ruined half of his face.

_"If you'd have been there…"_ Nuriko's words echoed in his mind.

_Is that why? Is that the only reason why?_

Chichiri laid his smiling mask on the bedside table then stretched out on his bed and stared at the paneled ceiling. Tama, undeterred – or perhaps drawn – by the Seishi's mood, leapt up onto Chichiri's pillow, circled twice, and lay down, purring contentedly.

_Oh, Hikou, did you steal her away only so I might live? Is that why Kouran turned from me?_ Tears began to creep from his good eye. Tama stopped purring briefly, shifted, and began to lick his friend's tears away.

_The gods direct our fates as though we were but pieces on a Go board. But why did you both have to die? If only I'd been able to control my temper! I should have taken you with me, Kouran. We three could have worked things out. I know we could have._ He sighed, and his tears came faster. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The storm seemed to be moving off.

_I've learned, Hikou. The first thing Taiitsukun taught me was control. Never again will I loose my temper that badly. Never will I lash out in anger. I swear to you, Hikou, Kouran. Never._

The sedatives finally took effect. Chichiri slowly drifted off to sleep, with Tama licking away his tears.

The next morning dawned as bright and clear as if no rain had fallen since the dawn of time, when the gods poured the water of life onto the earth.

_I hope you enjoyed this little snippet. Please Review and tell me what you think!_

_Note: Malabar is another word for rosewood._

_Kava kava, lotus, and poppy are all herbs used to soothe nerves and cure insomnia, among other things. I would imagine that as a monk, he would have been trained, at least a little, in such things. I'm not certain how the three herbs would react if used together, but wrote it this way, assuming that large quantities of any (particularly poppy) would be very bad, but that the combination reduces the negative effects. (Which it probably wouldn't…) Don't hesitate to correct me if I'm wrong! _

_:hugs: Ja!_


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